Francina Frog was feeling sick,
Though no one would believe her.
She said she’d been infected by
A bad case of green fever.
The winter doldrums had set in
Through drab and dreary days,
When all she’d seen surrounding her
Were browns and dingy grays.
And then, as though a wand were waved
With magic “hocus pocus,”
She saw some sprigs were springing up
From bulbs of budding crocus.
Forsythia and daffodils
Gave puny stems a push
Before the foliage could grow out
On rose and snowball bush.
At sight of trees unfurling leaves,
Her bug eyes bugged out more
At ash and aspen, sassafras,
Beech, birch, and sycamore.
And when new blades of grass appeared,
Francina was elated.
She shouted from her lily pad,
“My fever has abated.”
Her fever gone, she sang this song
In bass cacophony,
Amid “kerthumps” and mega jumps,
“The whole world looks like me!”
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